It's Okay to Cry
by ShiversTheNinja
Summary: Mac has developed serious feelings for Charlie, and isn't sure how to deal with it. After weeks of trying to ignore it, he gives in. (Set during their high school years. I would say they're about 16 or 17. If that makes you uncomfortable, then they're 18. XD)


He couldn't stop thinking about Charlie.

He'd had thoughts about other boys - _dirty_ thoughts - almost his entire life. That in itself was nothing new. He had always pushed them away, because, well, it was _wrong_ , of course. Unnatural. God didn't approve. The Bible said as much.

But... god. (No pun intended.) This was different. He really, _really_ could not stop thinking about Charlie in all the wrong ways. It was getting unbearable. He could barely be around his best friend without popping a boner. It had gotten to the point that he was making excuses to avoid hanging out with him. He felt bad, but what was he supposed to do?

Not that it really solved the problem. _Charlie, Charlie, Charlie,_ was all he could seem to think about. It was interfering with his schoolwork, not that he usually tried that hard anyways. It was interfering with everything.

And Charlie, of course, was clueless. And hurt. He didn't understand why Mac was avoiding him. The last time anything even close to this had happened was when Mac first met Dennis and was hanging out with him all the time instead of Charlie. Stupid Dennis. But after a while, things had gotten back to normal with them for the most part, and he didn't worry so much about Mac not liking him anymore. But now, he was seriously worried. This time was different.

He was lying in his bed on a Saturday afternoon, high as fuck on glue, staring at the ceiling and thinking about how much he missed Mac. Finding shapes and faces in the pattern on the ceiling. He thought one of them looked just like Mac's face, that look of surprise he got sometimes, his eyebrows raised up high and his eyes wide, his jaw dropped. Charlie laughed. The pattern probably didn't really look like that. It was just the glue talking. Nevertheless, it made him smile.

When his bedroom door flung open and Mac was standing there, breathing heavily (he must have ran there), Charlie thought he was hallucinating. He hadn't seen Mac in what seemed like years. (In reality, it had only been a couple weeks, but it felt like an eternity.)

Charlie furrowed his brow in concern, trying to figure out if Mac was really there. Whether he was real or not, he looked exhausted and anxious. He stood there in the doorway, leaning on the doorframe with his right forearm, saying nothing, just trying to catch his breath.

"Dude... what're you doing here?" Charlie managed to slur out. He'd huffed a little too much.

"It's... I can't..." Mac couldn't seem to get the words out. "I can't do this anymore, dude."

"Do... do what?" Charlie sat up clumsily. "You okay?"

Mac lowered his eyes to the ground, looking sad and terrified.

Charlie was scared for him. What the fuck was going on? Had Mac's dad hit him or something?

Suddenly, Mac made his way over to the bed. He was so swift, Charlie had no time to react. Must be all that ninja and karate bullshit he does.  
Mac couldn't help himself anymore. He quickly climbed onto the bed and pushed Charlie down, holding his wrists above his head, and all of a sudden, he lunged and their lips connected.

Charlie was in shock. He knew Mac was gay, of course. He was stupid, but he wasn't stupid enough to miss the signs. But he never thought Mac would be interested in _him_ that way.

He wasn't sure what to do. He couldn't move his hands or anything to pull away. Mac had him pinned.

His eyes were still open, and his body was stiff. The shock had mostly killed his high. What the fuck was he supposed to do in this situation?

But because he hadn't closed his eyes, he could see the emotion in Mac's face. His eyes and eyebrows all scrunched up, kissing him hard, forcefully. He wanted this so bad, but it was clearly killing him inside.

Charlie didn't want Mac to feel that way.

So he allowed his eyes to slip shut and started kissing him back. Fuck it.

Mac's eyebrows raised in surprise. If his mouth wasn't otherwise occupied with kissing Charlie and his eyes weren't shut, he would have been making that same face Charlie had seen in the ceiling earlier.

But... Charlie was kissing him back. _He was kissing back._ What the fuck.

Mac's face relaxed a bit. He felt relieved that not only did Charlie not hate him for doing this, but he seemed to be more than okay with it. It was a surprise for sure, but a pleasant one.

He pulled away, breathless. He stared at Charlie, looking him in the eyes, worry evident on his face. He had no idea what was going to happen next.

Charlie just smiled at him lazily, and he felt warmth rise to his cheeks. God damn it, Charlie was so fucking _cute._

"I'm... I'm sorry." Mac finally let go of Charlie's wrists, and backed away, sitting near the end of the bed, his head in his hands. The weight of what he'd just done hit him. He was going to Hell.

Charlie sat up and crawled over to him, gently laying a hand on his shoulder. "It's okay."

Mac shuddered. Holy shit, he was _crying._ Charlie had never seen Mac cry before.

"It's not okay, Charlie," he managed to choke out between quiet sobs. "This is... it's wrong."

"Dude, it's not wrong. It's just who you are. It's okay."

Mac sniffled. He had no idea what to say, what to do. He felt so conflicted. He knew that what they had just done was a huge sin. But here was Charlie, telling him he had done nothing wrong. He wanted to believe him. But it went against everything he'd been taught, everything he believed.

With his other hand, Charlie gently reached for Mac's jawline, and turned his head to face him. He leaned in and kissed him softly and slowly. He needed Mac to understand he was there for him, and he didn't judge him or hate him for this. He wasn't so good with words. This seemed like the best way to show it.

Tears were still falling from Mac's now closed eyes, but he kissed Charlie back desperately, like he needed it, as much as he needed air to breathe. Charlie's hand moved to Mac's other shoulder, and he moved to wrap his arms around him, behind his neck. Before Mac knew it, Charlie had crawled onto his lap. He wrapped his arms around Charlie's waist. In that moment, everything just felt so _right_.

He also felt like an asshole for betraying God, but he'd just go to confession later. This was... it was too good to pass up.

Mac opened his mouth slightly and gently pressed his tongue against Charlie's mostly closed lips, begging for permission. Charlie obliged, opening his mouth and allowing their tongues to meet.

Charlie was nervous. He'd never full-on made out with anyone before. He had no fucking clue how to do this. He tried to match Mac's movements, but he couldn't help but feel like he was just doing it wrong, and it was embarassing. He pulled away, blushing, looking at anything but Mac's face. Mac stared at him, confused, worried that Charlie had decided not to go through with this.

Charlie let out a small, awkward laugh. "I have no idea what I'm doing. I'm sorry."

Mac smiled with relief. "It's fine. Just... uh..." He couldn't bring himself to say what he wanted to. _Don't stop._

Charlie finally looked back at him. He was expecting some advice or something. "What?"

Mac still couldn't say it. So he just did the next best thing, and reached up behind Charlie's neck, pulling him in for another kiss. Charlie got the message. Mac wanted more.

He moved in closer, pressing their bodies together. That's when he noticed that Mac was hard.

 _Oh._

He wasn't sure how to react to that. But Mac moaned into the kiss, and Charlie couldn't help himself. He wanted to help Mac feel better, help him explore this secret side of himself.

He reached down with one hand and cupped the bulge in Mac's pants. Mac pulled away with a gasp and a bit of a moan.

"Jesus, Charlie... you... you don't have to do that."

Charlie ignored it, looking Mac straight in the eyes, determined, and started moving his hand. Mac shuddered with pleasure, his eyes closing involuntarily.

"Fuck, dude..."

Charlie smiled. He wasn't really getting much out of this sexually, but it made him happy to make Mac feel good. He fumbled with the button and zipper of Mac's jeans, undoing them clumsily with one hand. He reached inside, the material of Mac's boxers now the only thing between his hand and Mac's dick. This was weird. But he resolved himself to keep going, for Mac's sake.

He leaned back in and started kissing Mac again. Mac kissed back passionately and moaned again. He couldn't believe this was actually happening. He needed this so badly. He needed Charlie.

Slightly shaking from the nerves, Charlie bravely reached up and went under the waistband of the boxers. Finally, he grabbed Mac's cock for real, skin on skin. What the fuck was he doing? Was he really doing this?

He kept moving his hand up and down, stroking gingerly. Mac stopped kissing him for a second to mumble into his lips. "Jesus, Charlie... harder..."

As the kiss resumed, Charlie blushed at the thought of those words. He adjusted his grip to be a bit harder. He sped up his movements, and was pleased by Mac's obvious positive reaction.

Mac pulled away again suddenly, resting his head on Charlie's shoulder. He tried to blurt out a warning, "Charlie, I'm... I'm gonna..."

Charlie turned his head to look down at Mac, whose face was buried in the crook of Charlie's neck. It felt nice.

He grinned. "Yeah?"

Mac was so dazed, he could hardly get out a coherent reply. "Yeah, fuck."

Abruptly, he came in spurts, getting it all over Charlie's hand and shirt. Charlie didn't care. He just focused on Mac, writhing and moaning, lost in the orgasm.

After it was over, he stayed there, shaking and breathing heavily. He'd never felt anything quite like it. Girls had never given him such intense feelings. And this... this was Charlie. _Charlie_ had made him feel like that. His best friend, his partner in crime. The person he trusted and loved the most in the world.

He reached down and put his cock away, zipping up his pants, then gently started kissing Charlie's neck as a silent way to say thank you.

Charlie was surprised as he felt a jolt of pleasure shoot straight to his dick. He'd never had his neck kissed before, and apparently it was sensitive as hell. He was shocked that he was enjoying it despite the fact Mac was doing it.

He couldn't help himself, and let out a slight moan.

Mac backed away, finally looking at Charlie. "Um... you... you like that?"

"I guess," Charlie replied, once again unable to bring himself to look at Mac. He didn't understand what he was feeling.

Mac looked down and noticed Charlie's obvious hard-on. He also noticed the mess on his shirt and hand and laughed. "Sorry about your shirt, dude."

Charlie looked down at his beloved horse t-shirt, seeing that the bottom half was covered in jizz. "Oh. Uh. Whatever, it's fine." It's wasn't like he'd never accidentally come on any of his own shirts before. It wasn't a big deal. He wiped off his hand on a part of the shirt that was clean, then thoughtlessly peeled it off and threw it into the corner of the room.

Mac gazed at Charlie's shirtless torso unapologetically. Charlie looked back at him and realized what he had just done by removing his shirt. Heat rose to his cheeks.

"Mac..." He didn't really know what it was he wanted to say, and that was all he could get out.

Mac looked down at Charlie's crotch again. He was still hard. Mac licked his lips.

"Can I...?"

Charlie followed Mac's gaze and gulped when he realized what Mac meant.

"Uh... that's... you don't need to do anything for me. It's fine."

"Charlie," Mac started, desperation clear in his voice. "Please."

Charlie couldn't help it. He still wanted Mac to feel good, to feel better, to be able to do all the things he had been afraid to do. So reluctanly, he answered.

"O... okay."

Mac manuevered Charlie so he was laying on the bed, similar to the position they were in earlier when Mac had first kissed him so forcefully. Things had changed so much in the small amount of time since then. Mac did not hold down Charlie's wrists. He was being gentle, loving even. Instead, his hands were up further than before, lightly intertwining his fingers with Charlie's.

He bent down and started kissing Charlie's neck again, trying to focus on the most sensitive spots that made Charlie moan. He found a spot just below Charlie's ear that seemed to drive him crazy.

Meanwhile, Charlie had closed his eyes and was imagining that girl from his English class who worked at the coffee shop. Yeah, that would work. He moaned again as Mac pressed his lips to that most sensitive spot.

Suddenly, Mac had let go of his hands and was peppering kisses down Charlie's collarbone, down his chest, his belly, down, down, _down_. Charlie kept his eyes closed, imagining his biggest dream come true. The waitress, touching him, kissing him.

Mac continued kissing just above the line of Charlie's jeans, deftly unbuttoning and unzipping them. He was surprised how natural this all felt to him. He reached in and pulled out Charlie's cock. He stared at his hand, wrapped around it, amazed at what he was doing. But that was nothing compared to what he was about to do.

He moved closer and experimentally licked the tip. Charlie, his arms crossed over the top half of his head to cover his eyes, groaned and lightly bucked his hips in response. Daringly, Mac opened his mouth to put the head of it in and started gently sucking. Charlie's moans made apparent how much he was enjoying it.

Mac moved his head down further, taking as much in as he possibly could. He bobbed his head up and down, moving his tongue back and forth. He'd never done this before, but he figured he knew what would feel good. He had a dick too, after all.

Charlie moved his arms back out, splaying them downwards and gripping onto the bedsheets. He lost control and opened his eyes. And looking down, suddenly, everything changed for him. It was no longer the waitress blowing him. It was Mac. And he was strangely okay with that. More than okay. It kind of turned him on.

He didn't know why, but watching Mac do this to him was extremely hot. He was in disbelief. _Mac_ was doing this. And it felt so good. Cautiously, he reached down and put his hand on Mac's head, running his fingers through his hair. "Jesus, Mac. Oh my god."

Mac continued his ministrations, and opened his big, round, dark eyes to look up at Charlie. That was all it took, and Charlie unintentionally clenched his hand in Mac's hair.

That was the only warning Mac had before Charlie came in his mouth, hot bursts of salty liquid filling it. He wasn't sure he liked that part. He pulled his mouth away from Charlie's dick and spit the cum into his hand, hoping Charlie wasn't offended.

Charlie's mind was a little too occupied to be bothered that Mac didn't swallow (for the record, he didn't give a shit). He had just gotten a blowjob from Mac, and he _enjoyed_ it. He didn't like guys. At least, he thought he didn't. But here was Mac, wiping Charlie's cum off his hand with a tissue from the box on the nightstand, which he quickly wadded up and tossed into the small garbage can beside the bed (which already had quite a few similar tissues in it from Charlie's, er, solo sessions).

Charlie thought hard about what was going on here. How he was feeling. Mac was the one person he really, truly cared about. After all, he'd done all this because he wanted Mac to be happy. He had sacrificed his typical sexuality for Mac's happiness.

So he cared a lot about Mac. Deeply. Maybe that was enough to make this work.

Mac had busied himself with tucking Charlie back into his pants as Charlie was silently trying to figure out what all this meant, staring at the ceiling again as he tried to catch his breath. Mac smiled and chuckled. "Sorry about the, uh, spitting. It was just kinda... weird, I dunno."

Charlie tried to collect himself before looking back at Mac and responding. "It's, u-uh... it's fine. Whatever."

Mac sighed, a darkly concerned look suddenly taking over his face. "Charlie, what the fuck are we _doing_?"

Charlie sat up next to him. "I dunno. It's, er... it's cool though."

"Cool?" Mac scoffed. "This is so fucked up and wrong."

"God dammit, Mac, stop that." Charlie reached over and hugged him, burying his face in his shoulder. "You're a good person. This doesn't change that."

Mac reluctantly wrapped his arms around Charlie's waist again, reciprocating the hug. "But God says-"

"No," Charlie interrupted. "Don't worry about that."

Mac sighed again. He decided to let it slide for now. He was happy holding Charlie like this, being held by him. He was happy messing around with him. He was happy to spend time with him. Everything about being with Charlie made him happy.

"You're not... gonna tell anyone, are you?" Mac asked, concern evident in his voice.

" _What?_ " Charlie lifted his face to look at Mac, baffled. "Dude, of course not. This is between us."

Mac relaxed a little. "Okay. Good."

Charlie smiled, leaning in to kiss Mac briefly. As he pulled away, Mac kept his eyes closed for a moment, lips still slightly puckered, clearly not ready for the kiss to be over already. Charlie tried not to giggle at the sight.

Mac opened his eyes again. "What even _is_ this, though? I mean... you're not... you know... are you?"

Charlie shrugged. "I dunno. You're just real important to me, you're my best friend. I guess that... I don't know. At first, I just wanted you to feel better. But out of nowhere, I just... I was into it, I guess."

Mac's eyebrows were furrowed in confusion. "You liked it, then? It was... good?"

Charlie exhaled through his nose sharply in amusement, and gestured with his head toward the garbage can. "I mean..."

Mac couldn't help but burst into a grin and laugh. "Okay, yeah, I guess that was obvious." He paused. "But... what does that mean for you?"

Charlie thought for a moment. "I don't know. I guess I just like you? I don't give a shit about other guys. This is weird and super confusing. But... it was nice." He smiled softly. "What about you?"

Mac saddened once again, looking at the floor. "I... I don't want to say it."

Charlie nodded knowingly. "Okay."

They sat there for a minute, just holding each other, saying nothing. There wasn't much to say. Charlie knew Mac was gay, and Mac clearly knew it too. He just didn't want to admit it. And that was okay for now. As long as he could act on it, as long as he wasn't hiding it from Charlie anymore.

He looked into Mac's eyes, and felt like he could read his mind. He could see the hope, the wondering, the desperation.

"Don't worry," he said, wanting to ease his friend's anxiety. "We can keep doing this... if you want."

"R-really?" There was a glimmer in Mac's eye, a display of his excitement. He tried to reel it back, play it cool. "I mean, uh, yeah, sure, I guess. Whatever."

Charlie chuckled at Mac's obvious backpedaling. He was more than happy to be there for Mac to work his hidden frustrations out, and hey, if he got something out of it, too, all the better.

He leaned in and kissed Mac again, lingering a bit this time due to how Mac reacted the last time when it was too short. "Cool," he said.

Mac took a deep breath, then let it out. "Cool."

 **Notes:** Charlie is lowkey bi, he just doesn't really understand it. This fic is sort of my headcanon for the show… I feel like there are too many hints that they screwed around as teenagers/Mac had a crush on Charlie and at the very least used excuses like "wrestling" (which they clearly did at least shirtless with the whole bit where they kept passing ringworm back and forth to each other lmao) to get physically closer to him. Due to Charlie's confusion about his sexuality, they aren't really dating, though they should be. They just decide to be friends with benefits, with Charlie mostly believing he's doing it for Mac's sake, acting as an outlet for his pent up feelings. Aaaaaand that keeps going to the present day.

ALSO this story is named after "It's Okay to Cry" by SOPHIE. The lyrics are actually pretty relevant to this fic/CharMac in general. Even if that weren't the case, it's such a beautiful, wonderful song, and you NEED to check it out.


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